


I Never

by Lady_in_Red



Series: Spy Games [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Drinking Games, F/M, Gen, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 04:24:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20790593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_in_Red/pseuds/Lady_in_Red
Summary: On her second spy mission partnered with Jaime Lannister, they're assigned to work with Oberyn Martell.Prequel to an existing series





	I Never

**Author's Note:**

> So most of this was written back in 2014. Who'd have guessed the show would make them play the same drinking game in canon?

The droning jet engine has nearly lulled Brienne to sleep when the two veteran agents return from speaking with the pilot.

The lights are turned down low, ostensibly so they can sleep, though Brienne can never really sleep before a mission. She runs the scenarios endlessly in her head, trying to find any flaws, anything they’ve missed. 

Martell and Lannister sit across the aisle from her, talking quietly. Neither have made any effort to include her in conversation since they left the mission briefing three hours ago. She only met Martell today, though she’s heard plenty of stories about him. She’s known Lannister less than two weeks. This is only their second mission, and the first was simple surveillance until they determined the subject was an imminent threat, and then only Jaime’s marksmanship was required. Brienne could tell that Lannister didn’t want a partner. He still doesn’t, but this mission requires three agents: one to get the intel, one to shadow him, and one to monitor surveillance.

She watches them through eyes very nearly closed, her breathing purposefully slow and steady. When Brienne cannot sleep, she forces herself into a meditative state. That is more difficult to do with Martell and Lannister sitting there. Both men are attractive and sharp-tongued, but otherwise they could not be more different. 

Martell has burnished copper skin, black hair and eyes, a hawkish nose, and a warm smile. His movements are languid, his posture relaxed. There’s a bottle of some clear liquor cradled between his legs, a shot glass held loosely in one hand. With the other, Martell tosses nuts and dried berries into his mouth. He does not trust the food he is offered on missions. Too much experience with poison, Brienne supposes. 

Lannister has short honey blond hair just turning silver at the temples, brilliant green eyes, darker stubble defining a strong jaw, and a sharp smile. He is all coiled energy, fingers tapping out a steady beat against his thigh with his own shot glass. She has seen him still, holding a high-powered rifle waiting for his shot. Lannister can stay like that for hours, a predator waiting for just the right moment to strike. 

Martell glances her way. “So what’s Tarth like? She doesn’t fit the usual mold.”

Lannister snorts. “You think?” He scratches idly at his chin. “Blue’s temporary. I don’t play well with others.”

Pouring each of them another drink, Martell grins. “You never have any fun either. What’s the game tonight?” 

“This, right now, this is me having fun.” Lannister smirks. He pauses. “I never botched a hit.”

Martell rolls his eyes and drinks. “This again? Fine. Zo Loraq still died. It just didn’t look like an accident.” The Dornishman eyes Brienne for a moment. “Her last partner died.” 

Lannister rolls his head from side to side, his neck popping. “I know you’re awake, Blue. Might as well join our game,” he drawls.

Martell raises an eyebrow as Brienne opens her eyes. “How did you know that?” he asks. 

Lannister shrugs. “We spent four days in a hotel room doing surveillance. I know how she breathes.”

That’s mildly unsettling, but what about Jaime Lannister isn’t? He never uses her name, just his nickname for her or a variety of demeaning endearments. She can’t wait to get home and request a transfer. Lannister isn’t the only one eager to end this partnership.

“What exactly are you playing?” Brienne asks suspiciously. Drinking games seem like a poor choice before a mission. She played cards with Lannister on their last mission. He is fiercely competitive, as is she. At least now she knows how to call someone a bitch in Dothraki and Ibbenese, the two languages Lannister speaks that she doesn’t. 

“I never,” Lannister says with a smirk. “Are you game?”

“We really shouldn’t be drinking. We’re on a mission,” Brienne protests. 

Lannister laughs. Everything she does seems to amuse him. “Blue, we won’t be there for hours. Loosen up.”

Martell looks between them, taps a finger against his lips and points at Brienne. “You should play. Partners should know each other’s secrets.”

Lannister shakes his head. “Blue doesn’t have any secrets, Viper.”

Brienne bristles at his casual dismissal. “I’m in.”

Half an hour later, Brienne deeply regrets joining the men in their ridiculous game. Both have been in the field more than a decade longer than she has, and both seem intent to prove that the other is an inferior agent.

When Lannister scathingly says, "I never killed for money," Martell raises his glass in a mock toast and drinks deeply. Oberyn Martell was once one of the most feared mercenaries in the world. 

“I never let innocents die on my watch.” Martell stares hard at Lannister, and Brienne remembers a story Renly once told her. Martell’s sister and her children were brutally murdered while under the agency’s protection. 

Lannister and Brienne both drink. She can feel his curious stare, but she says nothing. She still feels guilty about that tour guide at the Whispers.

“I never killed someone I fucked," Lannister says evenly. His smile is so sharp it could cut glass. 

Brienne flinches as Martell drinks. He notices her expression. "Have you even made your first kill? This Is the job. You have to trust that you're on the right side."

If Brienne could safely jump out of this plane right now, she would. In a heartbeat.

"Our pretty little lion has such tiresome morals," Martell adds with a sniff. “He’ll kill foreign leaders but not fuck a pretty girl.”

Brienne knows why she is always the bodyguard, the backup. She has never resented being excluded from that type of mission. It was hard enough watching Renly flirt and seduce targets, though he had limits too. Lannister is far too good-looking not to use that as a weapon in the field. 

Lannister stands abruptly and moves across the aisle to sit beside Brienne instead of Martell. "I don't need to stick my cock in a mark to learn their secrets," he says with a sneer. 

Martell laughs. "You have your gun. I have poison and pleasure. We all have our weapons."

Lannister concedes the point with a short nod. 

Martell gets up and heads for the restroom, calling behind him, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

When he's out of earshot, Lannister sighs. "I certainly won’t have to act to fight with him."

She knows the foreign leader Lannister killed. Everyone in the agency knows that Lannister came over to the agency from the Secret Service after shooting Aerys Targaryen, ruler of the Free City of Pentos. 

“I figured.” 

The mission is simple. Martell’s target is a wise master of Meereen, a young and wealthy merchant with a penchant for beautiful older men. Martell will exploit that to learn all about the young man’s unsavory business contacts. Jaime will spend most of their time monitoring surveillance equipment or watching Martell through a rifle scope, but his one public task is to stage a dramatic public break-up with the Dornishman in a fancy restaurant in front of the mark. Jaime was less than thrilled when that came up in the briefing, but they need a reason for the mark to notice Oberyn.

Brienne will spend most of her time tailing Martell through the crowded city streets, pretending to be a hapless tourist. Lannister laughed in the briefing, telling Brienne with a smirk that she’d mastered looking lost and confused. Her hand still itched to punch that smirk off his face. If they have a chance to spar during this mission, she’ll ask him. Lannister is a better shot than she is, but she’s fairly sure she can match him in hand-to-hand combat.

At least they won’t be together when Martell seduces his target. Brienne can think of few things more awkward than watching surveillance footage of people screwing while Lannister sits beside her. Luckily he will be perched on a rooftop across the street with his rifle. 

She worries that Lannister will make the entire mission awkward, taunting her with lewd suggestions over their comms or simply ignoring her completely, as he did for several days on their previous mission. Martell’s the one she should have worried about. 

When he returns from the bathroom, he sprawls out, taking up as much space as possible and crowding Jaime. Martell’s pants are incredibly tight. She can see every ripple of muscle, and his rather prominent bulge. 

Oberyn notices her gaze and smiles lazily. “You disapprove of my methods, Tarth. Pleasure and poison, they’re usually women’s weapons. From me, it is unexpected. But I understand. That little rock you grew up on, I bet you had an angry little septa lecturing you about the sins of the flesh.”

Brienne concedes the point with a quick nod. Septa Roelle always looked like she’d sucked a lemon, and she’d been overly fond of smacking her charge with a ruler. Brienne’s large knuckles came courtesy of that woman’s enthusiastic discipline. 

Oberyn leans forward, his gaze trailing over her in frank appraisal. Brienne stiffens, bracing herself for his scorn, but she refuses to look away. He licks his lips. “Sharing pleasure can be a ploy, a trick to build false intimacy with a mark, or to gain intelligence, or simply to blend in with a group. But it can be an escape from the things we do, a moment’s sweetness in a bitter world. Find pleasure where you can, Tarth, or you will become so rigid it’s easy to break you.”

Brienne shakes her head. “The agency would never send me to seduce a mark, not unless they wanted me to fail. I have no need to  _ bend  _ on this point.” 

Oberyn laughs, a warm, rich sound to go with his very dark eyes. “I didn’t say it had to be a mark. Knock on my door, you will always be welcome. It’s been a long time since I had the opportunity to pluck the petals from such an exotic bloom.” 

Jaime’s hand is around Oberyn’s throat before she ever sees him move. “Touch her and you’ll answer to me,” he growls. 

Oberyn laughs again despite the pressure on his throat. His voice, though choked, is still easy to understand. “Join us if you like, Lannister. I’ve always wondered what you’d sound like begging for it.”

Brienne is up out of her seat and charging up the aisle to the bathroom before she’s even consciously made the decision. Why did she ever think the agency would be different than anywhere else in her life? This is just like high school, only so much worse. She can’t just ignore them. She has to work with them, has to complete her mission. 

The flimsy door barely muffles sound at all, so even when she’s hidden away, glaring at her own blotchy red face in the mirror over the tiny lavatory sink, she can hear them talking.

“What did you do that for?” Jaime snaps.

“You prefer to dance around your desires, pretending they don’t exist, or perhaps aren’t worth the cost? I take what I want,” Oberyn answers, more candidly than she would expect. Martell will fuck anyone, or at least that’s the reputation he’s earned. 

“And you have eight daughters to show for it,” Jaime says, and perhaps he means it to sound scathing, but it doesn’t. He sounds jealous. 

“Yes, and what do you have to show for your restraint?” Oberyn asks more gently. “Let your partner make her own choices.”

“Do you have to seduce my partner, too? Wasn’t my sister enough?” Jaime sounds bitter. He’s worked with Martell many times, knows far more about him than Brienne does. 

Oberyn doesn’t answer immediately, but when he does, he’s utterly serious. “I think she wants someone.  _ Needs  _ someone to make her feel like more than a weapon. I don’t mind taking on that mission, if she wants it too. Your Blue is quite a woman.” 

“She’s not mine,” Jaime corrects him. 

No, and she doesn’t want to be. Brienne is certain of that. She wants to finish this mission, go back to Catelyn and ask for another partner. Someone who doesn’t belittle her every chance he gets. Someone who doesn’t remind her constantly of every way in which she is lacking as a woman. 

“Then you won’t mind if she takes me up on my offer.” Martell sounds confident. In truth, he’s far from the worst offer she’s had, but Brienne is still not tempted. 

Jaime sighs heavily, and she can hear liquid being poured. Another drink. “Just leave her alone, Viper. She’s better than either of us deserve.”

Brienne doesn’t know what to do with that, not from him. Not at all, really. She leans against the mirror, eyes closed so she doesn’t have to look at herself, until the conversation moves on.


End file.
